


i'm lost in thoughts of you

by amelioratedays



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: I'm still retired I'm just rising from the dead, M/M, Romance, Unbeta-ed, it's not fluffy enough to be fluff is it....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 11:52:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12863949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelioratedays/pseuds/amelioratedays
Summary: “I overthink things too much,” He says a few days later over afternoon tea. Though what he truly means to say is that “you make me think too much.” Jinyoung nods halfheartedly while stirring his coffee, thoughts spiraling alongside the whirl of spoon.





	i'm lost in thoughts of you

**Author's Note:**

> tbh how else would i write jjp besides jaebum being all too flustered by jinyoung's existence. this was honestly supposed to be much more mellow but with how soft jaebum is these days things didn't go as planned.

There’s always a profound feeling that lies between them, more on his part than the other. One that he can’t really place an accurate depiction on. Which only leaves Jaebum at a loss on how to act one too many times. As if one wrong step and he’s falling off the precipice to the boundless depths below. But there’s just _something_ about Jinyoung that leaves Jaebum feeling all too disorganized, bright eyes that come off both warm and distant at the same time. He thinks they are akin to the moon, shielded by the night clouds, bringing light in the night—driving the world upside-down.

 

Their interactions leaves him uneased, where he’s wanting to say _something_ (but what?) yet also too afraid to do anything. As if his mind is constantly telling himself “Don’t act out,” and his heart is whispering “Go for it.” Which only places Jaebum in a state of perplexity—spellbound by his inner thoughts.

 

He figures the change in his actions is mutual, with the way that Jinyoung also quiets down when it’s just the two of them. But unlike the trepidation that crawls underneath Jaebum’s skin, he finds Jinyoung’s manners to be filled with an unnerving determination. As if he could see through Jaebum’s pretense and read the vexations of his mind. He’s too many steps behind in this labyrinth of thoughts and Jinyoung is simply watching him stumble from the exit. He wonders if it’s amusing in the others’ eyes—it probably is—to see him so utterly loss and flustered at mundane settings. The thoughts weigh him down, anchors shackled to his ankles, and Jaebum can’t help but feel as if he’s struggling to breathe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“There’s no need to be so serious,” Youngjae mumbles tipsily during one afterparty too many months ago, full of giggles and spontaneous hiccups. Jaebum only nods in response, though he rolls his eyes internally because it’s only the fourth-hundredth time he’s being told such words. “Maybe it’s your lack of facial expressions,” Jinyoung analyzes later. Jaebum hums in response. “You too, Mister-No-Jam” he reciprocates. Bam Bam rolls his eyes, reclining back in his seat; “You two are just old-souls.” It’s then that Jaebum diverts his attention to reaching over for the nape of the Thai male’s neck, he figures he can take a raincheck for introspective thoughts. And so the night continues on amidst Bam Bam’s muffled shouts and Mark’s high-pitched screams to the karaoke accompaniment. The LED screen illuminates the dark room and Jaebum takes in through hazy vision at the way Jinyoung’s eyes catch and reflect light rays in the very same way that the moon does.

 

He’s doing it again, he thinks. It’s another moment where too many thoughts flood his mind and mental processing takes priority over muscle coordination. Bam Bam takes advantage of his sudden immobilization and darts across the room, joining Yugyeom in the younger’s improv dance solo. Jaebum gives an awkward clearing of his throat, regaining his senses while Jinyoung gives him a questioning look. “What’s wrong?” The doe-eyed male asks, voice somehow even more prominent amidst all the noise. “Nothing,” Jaebum replies, “Just thought of something, I guess.” He takes note to avoid direct eye contact, counting slowly in his mind until evasive thoughts fade out to a minimum.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I overthink things too much,” He says a few days later over afternoon tea. Though what he truly means to say is that “ _you_ make me think too much.” Jinyoung nods halfheartedly while stirring his coffee, thoughts spiraling alongside the whirl of spoon. Jaebum’s gaze lingers on the other male for a few seconds before focusing his attention to his slice of cheesecake. And the two of them sit across one another, silence disrupted occasionally by the clinking of metal on porcelain. There’s something unsettling about it that Jaebum can’t exactly categorize. He thinks it might be the way how it's reminiscent of days too long ago—where it had been only the two of them in front of cameras co-existing in comfortable quietness. He thinks it might also be the way that they’re rarely interacting in ways that Jinyoung does with others. Where his usual playfulness suddenly disappears underneath a veil of mist. Banter that had been once _his_ as well—not exclusively, he knows, but still. It’s never to the extent of discomfort, but Jaebum becomes increasingly aware of how they always seem to exist within sedated airs just the opposite of the turmoil in his mind. As if time always slows down, fading out into a soft hum, and Jaebum’s the only one moving in a time-frozen world whenever they’re left alone. Maybe it comes with age, people just calm down over time, he reasons. Maybe he just brings it out because heck, maybe he becomes the embodiment of old age in a group where half the members resemble toddlers.

 

“I overthink things _way_ too much,” he says again, a bit more resolute, a bit more unsettled. He gives his head a light shake, refocusing on reality. “I overthink too much too, you know.” Jinyoung says, peering back into his gaze, soft irises resembling that of the night sky. “I need to take things on more lightly.” Jaebum says, though he isn’t exactly sure if he’s speaking to himself or the other. “Lightly, lightly,” He emphasizes. There’s a glimpse of confusion on Jinyoung’s face that’s quickly replaced by a playful smile. “Sure,” Jinyoung responds, cocking his head to one side. “Let’s take things lightly.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

They remind one another through soft touches and low voices. Sometimes it’s Jinyoung tugging slightly at the hem of his sleeve, and other times it’s him reaching over to place his hand on the middle of the younger’s back. “Lightly, lightly” becomes codeword for “slow-down,” and although Jaebum is reluctant to admit it, there’s something indulgent in having something akin to a secret between them two. Something he can somewhat call both _his_ and _theirs’_ at the same time.

 

He reckons it’s something akin to the superego, a conscious thought to stop and reassess his own actions and instinctual temperament. Where every time he finds himself wandering off into a labyrinth of thoughts, Jinyoung comes along to pull him back. And so he veers off stray roads with JInyoung’s hand in his own.

 

At other times it’s him who stealthily whispers on the side while JInyoung’s searching for the right words within a myriad of thoughts. They’re walking back on known roads, leaving no room for detours and unexplored paths. There’s no need to dwell on such things, he figures, when they’re swimming in too many thoughts at once. It’s not the time for this, he thinks.

 

But when is? Jaebum wonders.

 

Just when is it the prime time for neverending contemplation and self-exploration if not their blooming years of youth?

 

Had they not been wrapped into so many things at once, maybe they’d have the freedom of doing so. Maybe in some alternate universe they wouldn’t be rushing through from one schedule to the next.

 

There’s a part of him that regrets why his earlier years had been full of half-heartedness. Had he not wasted time then, would he have been in better standing now? Perhaps he would’ve already found his way through the mist of youth—full of trepidation and unknown variables.

 

But then again he finds that he’s always fixated over glass once broken whenever he lets his mind wander to the days of long ago. It’s always full of ‘what-if’s’ and ‘could-of’s,’ laced with late night regret as he lays upon his mattress, staring up at the vast ceiling.

 

They're approaching unexplored territory again and Jaebum shakes his head lightly, leaning back to meet the palm of Jinyoung's hand. “Too many thoughts,” he says with a quiet smile.

 

Jinyoung replies with a small nod, eyes crinkling in ways that makes Jaebum lose gravity for a split second. “Is that bad though?” The younger if the two questions in return.

 

“No,” Jaebum says curtly. “Just not for now,” he continues, motioning to the array of cameras ahead as he pretends to not see the frown that appears momentarily on Jinyoung’s face. They're veering off track, straightening his back and refocusing on the mixture of dialogues between the other five. He can think about this some other day, pushing his tangled thoughts back another day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“What's so bad about too many thoughts?” Jinyoung prowls again one Wednesday night, the both of them left behind in the dance room. The light flickers softly ahead as they sit against the mirrored walls. “Nothing, I guess.” Jaebum says. “It's just that we always get lost in them.” His voice echoes softly in the empty room, surrounding the two of them. He really means to say that more often than not he ends up getting lost in Jinyoung, but he decides to let such words evaporate into thin air.

 

“Being contemplative is a positive attribute,” The younger male muses, “better than not thinking at all.” Jaebum nods in agreement, adjusting the buckle of his wristwatch. “It is, but it always seems that you lose a bit of happiness in exchange. They—the boys, the fans—always say we take everything a bit too seriously. I mean, thinking is a good thing when you actually think things through. But the feeling of being lost in a pit of thoughts isn’t always the best.”

 

“Ignorance is bliss, I guess.” Jaebum hears the other say, though he doesn’t fail to pick up the slight agitation in the other’s tone. “We’re not always overtly serious anyways,” Jinyoung retaliates with a mumble. Jaebum only gives a soft sigh, “I just feel like this only proliferates when it’s the two of us. Where we needlessly think too much about everything.”

 

“What do you think about all the time anyways?” Jinyoung probes, gaze all too heavy in contrast to the tone of his voice. It burns into Jaebum’s skin and he brings a hand up to tousle at his hair, pulling his bangs slightly over his eyes. “Just things,” he answers vaguely.

 

He doesn’t point to unsaid answers though the weight of Jinyoung’s gaze seems to pinpoint invisible words. He pulls his hood over his head, as if an extra layer of cotton and polyester could hide his emotions.

 

“Life, people and things.” Jaebum says with a wavering voice though they both know that words are lost in between. Jinyoung doesn’t reply only giving a semi disgruntled hum, perfunctory but Jaebum is thankful that conversations are cut prematurely.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes he’s a bit too reminiscent of the past where they both led the world without much thought—pondering only on _now_ and _here_. Maybe age truly does diminish one’s courage, with too many things to worry about and they’re now too afraid to take the step in fear of losing everything they have now. Those were the days, Jaebum thinks back to cliche sayings as if he’s already aged far too much for this world.

 

Except they’re not.

 

They’re still in the blossoming ages of life, full of vibrant petals and jagged thorns. It’s too early to be exasperated by the world they’ve barely embarked upon. But sometimes he can’t help but feel like it’s been forever—too many seconds, minutes, hours spent alongside Park Jinyoung. Things should be easier by now, where they shouldn’t have the need to decipher subtle movements and unspoken thoughts.

 

They should, he reckons.

 

But they aren’t.

 

He finds that the more time passes, the more he realizes that he _can’t_ read the other’s thoughts. It’s a quicksand of anxiety that he finds himself in, as if they’re gone back to Day 1. In which he’s sixteen years old again and too conscious of how the world perceives him, full of edges and pride. As if he’s still a teen who has to constantly remind himself to keep his cool. There’s countless scenarios within his mind, though they’re all left to rot as he scraps them one by one.

 

It’s unsettling, the way that he worries so much of how others (Jinyoung) sees him. Especially because he knows that such worries are unwarranted. They’ve been walking down the path together for so long—having witnessed the best and the worst of each other. There’s nothing to hide and there are no facades to maintain. So why? Why is it that he’s so wary of his image _now_ of all times.

 

 _Lightly, lightly._ Jaebum tells his thoughts that are running in directions he doesn’t want to dwell on.

 _Lightly, lightly_. Jaebum tells his heart that is beating a bit too fast, too loud.

 

He wonders if it’s the same for Jinyoung, and the question repeats a bit louder in his mind every time he catches averted gazes and hidden glances. As if they’re onstage performing a modern dance piece, tip toeing around each other in fluid ways. Their grasps always fall short, emotion building up in every instance that they approach each other only to retreat back.

 

Everything’s in place, music slowly reaching the climax—but they’re not there yet—and the world is only waiting for the spark to ignite. Jaebum’s waiting as well though he isn’t sure what would bring the air between them into a kindle of flames. They’re both waiting for a moment— _the_ moment—but it has yet to come.

 

Time slows to a halt and Jaebum looks begrudgingly at the frozen particles in the air. Frustration seeps softly in his veins though he isn’t sure if it’s directed at the world or at himself. Maybe it’s both.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He resorts to late night television, overwhelmed by rumination and the footsteps of not one but three cats that seem to echo the pace of his vexations. He slumps dejectedly onto the leather couch, half heartedly paying attention to the drama playing in front of him. The light from the screen flickers through the dimly lit room, varying colours splaying across his skin.

 

There’s something rather odd in the experience, where Jaebum feels a bit more disconnected from the world than usual. He finds it partly due to his fatigue and also partly due to the way that his solitude is pronounced in the empty living room. He lets his mind run on autopilot, thoughts running from one topic to the other. He thinks of alternate universes and parallel worlds—wondering whether the Jaebum of another world would have already thought things through and clasped Jinyoung’s hand in his own. Maybe Other World Jaebum had never been plagued by such thoughts in the first place. This World Jaebum is decidedly envious of such a character. He gives a small frown, tossing the duvet over his head. The sounds of the living room clock and television morph into dull noise. Pulling the fabric closer, he wonders vaguely if he could be reborn into an alternate world. He’s swimming in senseless thoughts, sound waves distorting as they approach him.

 

It seems surreal—consciousness somewhere between reality and lucid dreams. And so when Jinyoung enters vision, Jaebum only registers half of what is happening. He figures it’s yet another dream, as he mumbles through hazy vision and oncoming sleep, “Maybe in other worlds, we’re already in love.”

 

“Maybe,” JInyoung replies in a low voice, indulging his ludicrous thoughts.

 

“Then the other world must be so nice,” he thinks aloud, eyes closed as the flickering lights from earlier linger in his vision.

 

“How about this world? Aren’t we already in love?” He hears the other say. Jaebum gives a slight frown, brows knitting as if he was in contemplation before finally letting out a murmured, “Not yet.”

 

“Not yet?” Jinyoung asks, thorns trailing his words. Jaebum pulls the duvet closer to himself, a slight chill grazing his skin.

 

“Not yet, it’s not time yet.” Jaebum whispers, eyes feeling all too heavy as he finally falls into slumber. The television continues to play, voices turning into white noise as coloured light rays dance around the room. It’s not time yet, he’s counting down in heartbeats, one moment at a time. They’re still in the waltz of ambiguity to the tempo of unrequited love that falls in and out of crescendo. “It’s not time yet,” Jaebum thinks in his dreams as he stumbles over dance steps once again and is left with sweaty hands and a racing heart. Dream Jinyoung looks at him all too composed, in ways that only makes him inch back. He wipes his palms on the fabric of his pants, smile only slightly faltering as he reminds himself. “Lightly, lightly. Let’s approach love in soft steps.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

The television is still on when he wakes up the next morning, muddle headed and barely comprehending the world around him. There’s a dull ache in his muscles, sore from the restriction of movement. Jinyoung sits besides him, idly flipping through channels with the remote control. Jaebum wonders if he’s woken up to yet another dream, shaking his head a bit too hard as he attempted to regain his senses. “Morning,” he makes out hoarsely, throat feeling dry in early morning.

 

“Morning,” Jinyoung hums.

 

“Why are you here?” He asks, finally sitting upright and stretching out his limbs. It’s yet another morning, sun still hidden halfway behind the horizon line. The neighbourhood sparrows chirp softly outside the window and Jaebum takes in the scent of the morning air. It’s yet another ordinary morning until Jinyoung throws his world off axis. “Weren’t you the one talking to me yesterday?” Jinyoung asks softly.

 

Jaebum feels as though his heart skips a beat, and he wonders if this could constitute as arrhythmia. He places his hand over his chest as he contemplates the probability that Jinyoung would divert the conversation elsewhere if he tells the other that he suffering from cardiovascular disorders. He thinks with a bit of luck, it might amount to a wholesome thirty percent.

 

“Was I?” He finally lets out, tugging lightly at his hair. He doesn’t quite remember, mind still a puddle of fragmented thoughts. He furrows his brows, trying to recall late night memories. It only comes out a hazy blur and Jaebum doesn’t exactly know if he had been talking to Real Jinyoung or Dream Jinyoung. Maybe both, maybe neither.

 

“Hmm,” Real Jinyoung nods, “You were telling me how we aren’t in love yet.”

 

“...”

 

“Maybe in other worlds, you’d have already confessed to me, you know?” Jinyoung lets out an exasperated sigh, cheeks huffing in ways that makes Jaebum feels as if they’re suddenly in the world of faerie tales—where with a huff and a puff and Jaebum feels his world come apart. Words don’t really string together in his brain, neurons refusing to work as he remains in his seat.

 

“But for this world, I guess I have to confess,” Jinyoung whines teasingly. Jinyoung lets a smile, one that pricks at Jaebum’s achilles heel, and he continues to speak in a tone so seemingly precarious. “Sigh, I was really anticipating you to give me a clumsy confession though.”

 

“You make my heart problems worse,” Jaebum lets out, mind still short-circuiting as he buries his face into his hands. The younger male only laughs in response, eyes crinkling into crescents. He’s falling, Jaebum thinks, way too fast and way too out of control. He’s falling _and_ he’s got arrhythmia, and with a huff and a puff, Jaebum feels as if the ground beneath him morphs into quicksand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You know you have to thank me, right?”

 

“For what?”

 

“Dating me is a dream come true, you know?”


End file.
